


Nitroglycerin

by pachemuchka



Series: Sisyphus Observed [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bloody Sunday (1905), Gen, Historical Hetalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pachemuchka/pseuds/pachemuchka
Summary: Nicolas II reckons with the consequences of Bloody Sunday, just not in the way you might expect. Ivan isn't particularly impressed.
Series: Sisyphus Observed [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779892
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Nitroglycerin

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of Sisyphus Observed! The descriptions of violence aren't too graphic, but graphic enough to be aware of. This chapter was inspired both by Himaruya's official depiction of Bloody Sunday in the manga and the Revolutions podcast episode _The Wave of Protest_. Go check them out if you're interested in the 1905 Revolution! There's a lot more to it, but I can't cover it all here.

_17 February 1905; St Petersburg, Russia_

“I just don’t believe it! The—the ungrateful lot of traitors—no—no that’s too good—swine! _Swine_!”

Ivan sat in a chair with his head propped up on his fist boredly. His dull eyes followed the Tsar as he paced back and forth across the checkered floor, ranting, cursing, and generally carrying on. It was unusual to hear his soft-spoken Nicolas throw around words like ‘damn’ and ‘bastard’. All it took was the assassination of Grand Duke Sergey Alexandrovich, it seemed.

“To pieces Ivan, there—there was hardly any of him left… barely even a _face_ …”

Nicolas propped himself up on a table, hands flush against the surface as he wept, heaving sobs racking his shoulders. In sharp contrast, Ivan reclined in his chair, legs crossed, fingers curled in front of his face as he scrutinized his nails and occasionally bit at them. He spoke with his fingers in his mouth, obstructing his speech.

“That’s dreadful, Majesty. Horrific.”

Snow swirled in the windows outside. Past the balcony, Ivan could see people in rags marching with signs bobbing above them. They chanted and although he couldn’t make out what they said, he knew what it was. _Freedom or death! Liberty for all peoples!_ He could hear the words inside his head as clear as if the marchers were screaming inside of his ears instead of into the cold winter air.

“Dammit Ivan you could—you could pretend to have some grief!”

Nicolas slammed his hands on the table so hard that the cutlery clattered and the porcelain plates shook. Ivan’s eyes became alert and he flicked them in Nicolas’ direction, although he did not turn his face towards him.

“Sergey Alexandrovich was my uncle, and thereby your family, too! Do—do you even care?”

He tried not to snort. Ivan cleared his throat and lowered his head mournfully. He put on his most obedient voice and said what the Tsar wanted to hear.

“Of course, Majesty. It’s a heinous thing the terrorists have done now.”

The Tsar shouted at him, tears streaming down his face, real anger on his face and hurt in his voice.

“Then why don’t you say it with some feeling in your voice, Ivan? As if you mean it!”

_Because I don’t._

“Does it mean anything to you that another functionary of your government was slaughtered?”

“The same way we slaughtered them?”

“ _Excuse me_?”

Now, some emotion came into Ivan’s face. _Did I say that out loud?_ He had. He had said that out loud. He hadn’t meant to, now his eyes were wide and he looked at Nicolas the same way a back-talking child looked at their father.

“I…”

“Repeat what you just said to me, Ivan. That is an order.”

The back of his neck burned. He looked down, opened his mouth, closed it again, swallowed. Then… he thought. Why shouldn’t he repeat it? He meant it. It was the truth. So the people had murdered a royal, but hadn’t the royals just murdered the people in hundreds? Wasn’t Palace Square still stained with their blood? And Nicolas' only response had been to forgive _them_? As if it were the peoples' own fault they had been massacred? A small voice chided Ivan from the inside. This was his Emperor, his God-given ruler, who was Ivan to talk back to him? Then again, the Tsar had given him an order, therefore, Ivan was obliged to follow it. So, he did.

“I said… the same way we slaughtered them, _Majesty_?”

Ivan was hesitant when he spoke, but Nicolas certainly wasn’t in his response.

“They were rebels, Ivan. Anarchists!”

“The leader of their movement was a _priest_ , sir.”

“Some kind of priest!”

“Is it a sin to want bread now?”

“You watch your tongue, Russia.”

The Tsar held his finger up at Ivan and spoke in a stern voice. But his attempt to intimidate Ivan backfired when Ivan stood up. After all, he was head and shoulders above his own master, and all the hesitance in his expression had seemingly evaporated. He smiled a sardonic smile now and decided he'd push the envelop a little further. Instead, it was Nicolas who appeared intimidated.

“You are free to tear it out. It is yours, after all. I am your charge in body and soul. Why don’t you? Why don’t you rip out my tongue, _Nicolas_?”

“Ivan—!”

He took a step towards Nicolas, then got down on one knee and bowed his head submissively, one arm crossed behind his back and the other over his heart.

“Give me an order, Majesty. Allow me the pleasure of carrying out your divine whim. So, the people do not mourn the name of Sergey Alexandrovich. Sergey Alexandrovich, who drank wine over the bodies of Khodynka and cloistered students away in prison camps. But they deserved it, didn’t they? You supported his decisions, didn’t you? Ungrateful children! They did not learn their lesson, it seems. Sir, I will do it again. Place the gun in my hands and I will ascend the balcony and rain lead upon the protesters’ heads. Then, surely, they shall shed tears, Majesty, you will have your wish granted. In fact, you have the option of removing the middle man, Majesty. Strike me. Place the barrel of the rifle against my chest and pull the trigger. It won't be so bad, I'll even come back! Can you do it, _Nicolas_?"

Nicolas sputtered, in the meantime Ivan raised his head to look at him, smiling.

“Come now, _Batyushka_. Don’t be modest! We’ve butchered our own people before, what’s one more time? It’s only prudency. Give them bread instead of bullets lest your face be blown away. That is our philosophy here in the holy Russian court, is it not? Hold the line, Majesty. Sergey Alexandrovich died upon it, after all. Would you dishonor his memory?”

Nicolas exhaled sharply, his cheeks as red as his bloodshot eyes. He stared at Ivan and Ivan stared back. Then, the Tsar bowed his head and bit back his tears, boots click-clicking as he quickly walked out of the room, leaving Ivan to himself.

His eye remained fixed to the door where Nicolas had left. He’d hear about this later, surely. That German woman would scold him and Ivan would curse her in the back of his head. But he was feeling different today, wasn’t he? Maybe this time he’d actually respond to her. But for now, Ivan pushed himself up off the floor and stood idle in the center of the ballroom. Then, he drifted over to the windows where the masses stood down and opposite him on the other side. He was just steps away from the balcony where, on the command of Nicolas himself, he’d held his rifle only weeks ago and fired, fired, fired. He lifted his fingers to the fogged windows and rested them there. The protesters’ voices chanted outside, still unintelligible, but manifested inside his head.

_Freedom or death! Liberty for all peoples!_

He found that he didn't disagree with those words.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. In the wake of Bloody Sunday, Grand Duke Sergey Alexandrovich, Nicolas II's uncle, was assassinated via a nitroglycerin bomb by a member of the terrorist wing of the Socialist Revolutionary Party. He was killed on impact and his body essentially destroyed. To get a sense of how powerful the explosion was, check out pictures of the carriage after the bombing.  
> 2\. Sergey Alexandrovich hadn't exactly made himself the most likable person during his time in Nicolas' cabinet. A cousin said of him, "Try as I will, I cannot find a single redeeming feature in his character… Obstinate, arrogant, disagreeable, he flaunted his many peculiarities in the face of the entire nation… " As Commander of the Moscow military district, he bore the most responsibility for the Khodynka Tragedy, where nearly 1,400 people were trampled to death. He refused to take responsibility for the incident, which haunted him. Sergey Alexandrovich was aware that he had a target on his back and took precautionary measures, but was assassinated regardless.  
> 3\. Nicolas II was outraged and hurt that the mood of the people regarding Sergey Alexandrovich's assassination was apathetic, if not gleeful. His assassination can be linked in part with the Tsar's paltry response to Bloody Sunday in January, which earned its name when the Tsar ordered the military to fire upon a crowd of peaceful protesters demonstrating for better working conditions and against the disastrous Russo-Japanese War.  
> 4\. Prior to Bloody Sunday, there had been solidarity with the Tsar. However, sympathy for the Tsar had all but evaporated in the wake of his response. Nicolas really did issue a decree forgiving the demonstrators for questioning his power... after having slaughtered them. During a peaceful protest. His wife, Alexandra, even claimed her husband was the victim in all of this. It was no surprise that nobody wept when Sergey Alexandrovich was killed.  
> 5\. "Freedom or death! Liberty for all peoples!" Slogans from some of the placards during the 1905 Revolution, which precipitated in the wake of Bloody Sunday.  
> 6\. "Batyushka" is an endearing Russian term for father, in this context referring to the idea of the Tsar as a father of his people--one which Nicolas himself adhered to and promoted quite heavily. Ivan is using it mockingly.  
> 7\. "That German woman," refers to Alexandra. Most Russians hated her because she was shy and made few attempts to connect with the Russian people.


End file.
